Rune Service: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Dwarf for Hire Book 1)

by J. B. Garner

  Sinclair responded with a roar of frustration, the lights growing ever closer. “That is not my name!” His voice was on edge, more unsettled than I had ever heard before. “You had best talk reason to your charge, Lady Stone, or else I will order my men to start firing!”

  As I preferred to save my breath for running like hell, I answered Sinclair’s request by abruptly stopping on a dime and throwing my weight down a side tunnel to my right, out of the piercing lights and the immediate line of fire. Our only chance would be to jive and juxe, do anything to throw them off our trail and loose them. We certainly wouldn’t outrun them, not with my stubby legs.

  Down this new tunnel to who-knew-where, I almost let go of Aelfread’s hand and pushed him ahead. Aelfie was fast as the wind, much faster than any human I’d seen and faster than Sinclair’s crew. He had a chance to get away on his own … if he had a light and any clue of where to go. You know it’s a bad day when even good, old-fashioned martyrdom won’t do you any good.

  The feeling in my bones from the stones told me to cut left so I did so, right as those spotlights shot down the turn at us. We were losing ground fast, a fact backed up by how I could make out three distinct sets of footsteps crowding behind us, two sets of hard-soled shoes and the clack of claws. I swore I could even hear Blythe’s heavy breathing as he pushed his mass down the hall. Stupid me risked a glance behind us only to pick out familiar silhouettes before the light spilling out of four flying, holographic shop lights almost blinded me.

  Turning away before I lost my sight entirely, Aelfread yelped in surprise right before two back-to-back gunshots rang out. Those inhuman Elven reflexes saved our lives. One moment we were running down the hall, the next we were both pressed up against the side of the tunnel wall, Aelfread covering me with his body. I wasn’t even sure how he managed to move me at all considering his luck at that so far.

  “That’s some warning shots there,” Beaks cried in English. “The next one’s ain’t gonna miss!”

  While it was obvious that neither of those shots were warnings, there was no way I was just going to give up and I didn’t think Aelfie was either. Before Beaks was even done with his threat, we were already pushing off the wall and running again. They were catching up, sure, but we had some tricks up our sleeve still, assuming they worked.

  Trick number one, the one I should have lead off with, was obvious. I got out one word to Aelfread, one I hoped didn’t give too much away to our pursuers, “Ahead!”

  There wasn’t time for anymore, not if my plan had any chance of working. You see, you can’t shoot what you can’t see so taking advantage of Sinclair lighting our way for the moment, I thrust my open book back behind me and put all my focus on the light runes, just as I had when the Gobbos had come after us.

  It was worse than the last time before. Maybe I’d been using too much magic juice or whatever powered the runes without a rest to recharge; the cold that bit into my body was more frostbite than bracing. I tried to bite down on the hiss of pain and the chattering teeth but I totally failed.

  Still, the end result on the magic end was almost the same. Burning heat rushed through my fingertips and into the book, answered by a pulse of head-on, zillion-watt daylight. At least I had the foreknowledge this time not to be on the receiving end of the firehose of photons.

  Fortunately, Aelfread caught my meaning, keeping his eyes glued straight ahead as we barreled down the corridor, dancing around a musty pile of blankets and assorted cloth.

  Unfortunately, there were no shouts of surprise and pain or sounds of stumbling feet and blinded people. Instead, Sinclair taunted us. “Using the same parlor trick twice is a sign of desperation, especially trying to use light against a Drake.”

  I was an idiot. Of course, Beaks and Blythe would have reported how we ditched them last time and of course, Sinclair would have been ready for it this time and of course, I should have realized that holomancy was just the manipulation of light to make images. If you can manipulate something, it stands to reason that negating it or protecting against it would be part of the package.

  Oh, I was also a double idiot for not realizing how much that bit of magic would take out of me. Granted I was a rank amateur at this sort of thing but you don’t get to make those kinds of mistakes when people are shooting at you. The chills didn’t subside this time and while I could still pump my legs, I really wanted to take a break in front of a sunlamp or a nice fireplace.

  Maybe the runeword had some small effect because the next shot did whistle over my head, wide left of Aelfread. I didn’t think we would be so lucky on the next one. Stubbornly keeping my legs moving took all my attention so it was lucky for me that Aelfread took a turn at bat.

  “Enough!” The Elf’s voice was confident, full of strength, and dripping with noble authority as he skidded to a stop. “You three have tested my last bit of patience!” One of the goons took a potshot anyway, one that the now-unencumbered Aelfie dodged with a slight sway to one side. I had the presence of mind not to bowl him over, staggering past him a few steps as he continued his boastful, bald-faced lie of a threat, “Face now the might of the high magic of the Elven nations!”

  It was a beautifully done bit of lying. I was the only one there that knew about Aelfread’s little magical deficiency. Sinclair or Blythe might suspect there was some trickery on Aelfie’s part but they were also cautious enough not to risk their necks if they made the wrong call. At least I hoped that was the case.

  Aelfread threw himself into the con, issuing a chant that sounded impressively arcane and going through a weaving motion that matched the sort of movements Siofra had shown me with her own high magic. Shoes skidded and talons screeched as the goon squad put on the brakes. Aelfie was doing it!

  It wouldn’t last. There wouldn’t be any glow or sparks or fireballs and they’d realize that in a second. Pulling myself together, adrenalin pumping, I tried to figure out some kind of escape, staring hard down the tunnel, trying to strain my ears to listen to the stones all around us. That’s when it finally hit me.

  This place was so damn familiar because these weren’t any old rumrunners’ tunnels; these were Dwarven rumrunners’ tunnels! The architecture and stonework matched every dream and phantom memory while the inscriptions I had fancied seeing before were really there, faint runes carved at various points along the walls.

  The dim lights I had seen this entire chase weren’t reflections off garbage. They were those same runewords reacting to the magic I had been using. That spark had lit the fires, in a manner of speaking, priming this decades-old magic left behind by my ancestors, now waiting to be used. If I had anything to say about my fellow unknown Dwarves, they built things to last.

  I turned back just in time to see Sinclair’s silhouette straighten, confidence replacing caution. Blythe had stopped as well but Beaks was beating feet back down the tunnel, two of the spotlights following him to the joy of my optical nerves. Aelfread was still fully committed to his act.

  Good, because I was about to supply some fireworks. Really old fireworks that I hadn’t read the instructions for and all I had left were a few wet matches. All the same, it was our last chance so I threw out my hand towards the words carved behind us and put everything I had left behind them.

  31

  “BLYTHE, COLLAPSE THE TUNNEL,” Sinclair ordered, “and take a note to see to your compatriot’s discipline later.” Blythe’s light-shrouded form complied, digging into an ever-expanding jacket pocket for the painfully familiar rod the pair of thugs had used in the past. He didn’t get a chance to point it, well, not at us.

  That was the moment that purpose matched up with focus for me, the overwhelming imperative of safety for Aelfie and I pushing past any desire to hurt Sinclair or his goons. Despite his cunning, the Drake didn’t notice the runes blazing to life on the walls around them until it was too late to do anything but let out an abrupt screech of alarm.

  Seams appeared in what had been smooth walls to be followed by
the slabs delineated by those seams to spring forth. Each chunk of rock was at least six inches thick but slid out as if on a well-greased track, making only the faintest of grinding sounds along the floor and ceiling, both ahead and behind of Sinclair’s posse. Through my squinted and straining eyes, I caught at least two or three bulwarks slam home between us and them, followed by one last thrum of runic power that behind those stones.

  What that was, I didn’t know. All sights, sounds, and smells were locked behind over a foot of solid rock. What I did know was that we were safe for the moment and surprisingly I wasn’t about to collapse from the strain. The magic stored in the runes that lined these tunnels had a best by date that was even better than a Twinkie, that much was certain. Still, the rest of the night’s shenanigans had taken their toll and I felt no shame when I hunched forward, hands on my knees, and took a break.

  “You were magnificent, my dear.” Aelfread’s face appeared before mine as he knelt in the glow of my notebook. It must have slipped out my grasp for a moment and fallen open on the ground before me. His hands settled on my shoulders, gently kneading into tense muscles. “When I saw the runes on the walls, I knew you would know what to do.”

  I mustered up an unconvinced glower. “You knew and you didn’t say anything?”

  He met that look with a broad smile and a twinkle in his gold-flecked eyes. “I did not have to,” he whispered with supreme confidence. Damn that handsome face and those flattering lips.

  To shut them up (and take advantage of Aelfread’s head level), I kissed them. Aelfie didn’t seem to mind one bit.

  We had time, after all. Sinclair and his entourage were locked away so all we had to do now was have a quiet stroll to the river. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?

  Wrong. Our moment of complacency, lovely as it was, was interrupted by a muffled thunderclap followed immediately by the distinct sound of cracking stone. The entire tunnel shuddered slightly and while the blocks entombing Sinclair remained intact, my Dwarven ears picked up groaning and straining from them.

  “We’ve got to go,” I said, forcing myself to get my crap together.

  Aelfie had deflated at that mighty sound but he shook off the renewed look of defeat off his face. He scooped up my book and handed it to me, rising to his full height. “Lead the way and I shall follow, Mary.”

  I blew a bit of dirt and dust off the pages as I turned towards our egress. “Stay close. I’m going to turn on a few more surprises for our friends.”

  “You have once more read my mind, lovely one.”

  Even in a life-or-death chase, I found out that you can still blush like a school girl. Trying not to be too flattered, I started off as fast as my little legs could carry me, the Elf right on my heels, our flight spurred on by another peal of thunder and a visible fracture in the stone prison.

  That little gift from my ancestors bought us a solid head start, though. We didn’t catch sight of Blythe and Sinclair again, something I did my level best to make sure of by doing what I said. Every time we even thought we heard pursuit closing in or Aelfie needed to catch his breath (I was already plotting out a work-out schedule for the poor guy), I’d pick out a series of runes to prime amidst the vast array barely visible in the stones. I still didn’t know what half of them did, we didn’t exactly have the spare time for me to study them, but I pushed the same intent as before behind them.

  Still, for all the magical traps and tricks we scattered in the Drake’s path, I knew he was still following with single-minded determination. I was loathed to admit it but I respected that quite a bit.

  We plunged onward with our slow, steady pace, all meaning of time slipping away in those tunnels. It was like a game of Mouse Trap on an infinite loop and I was getting sick of turning the crank. Every time I thought we were home free, there would be another echo of footsteps or clack of claws or crack of stone to push us on. In the end, though, there was a finish line and we were finally closing in on it.

  The stones started to echo the sounds of gentle, lapping waves and running water as moisture began to condense on the floor, walls, and ceiling. The whispers told me that the Saginaw River was only a few turns away.

  I wasn’t the only one to notice the signs. The relief was plain in Aelfie’s voice as he said, “Ten Gods, I believe we are actually going to make it.” His pace began to slow, even slower than my own, and I found myself matching it. “I know this may sound strange but it would be best if we parted ways now, out of sight of my father’s escort. Dwarves, especially runecasters, are a rare and valuable resource. Father might decide you are to come along despite your wishes.”

  Glancing ahead, his pace slowed another step. “I wish to be happy with safety so close. Certainly, a part of me is but … “

  I understood his trailing words all too well. “Look, it doesn’t matter, does it?” I took in a deep breath and spat it back out. “I’m not one to spit out clichés but love conquers all and we’ll never grow apart and all of that jazz, right?”

  “Lady Stone, Mary, my blazing torch in the darkness, you are no fool and you know that I am not, at least not in the main.” His relief was cut with melancholy now. “Father may not draw and quarter me but there will be significant punishment waiting for me in the Spaces. After all, I have committed one of the most ludicrous crime sprees ever among my people.” There was an impish grin on his face as he tapped his chin. “Well, for the last few decades, I suppose.”

  We both stopped in our tracks and I turned to him. “So, I guess the hopes and dreams of a Dwarf and an Elf don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, do they?” I managed to untwist my contorted frown into a smile. “Hey, Aelfie, you remember what I told you, that I didn’t want you to lie to me anymore?”

  He matched my movements and looked down at me, his sad face perking up a little. “Indeed, I do and I have since fought my every natural urge to do so.”

  “Maybe it would be okay if you were to lie to me this once.” My smile came naturally now, even if it was a wistful one. “You know, for old time’s sake?”

  Aelfread chuckled and shook his head, his blonde hair scattering like sunshine. “I am going to miss you, Mary. I truly will.” He smirked. “That, as if you needed clarification, was not a lie.”

  “I know, Aelfie.” I stood up on my tiptoes and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt. “We better get a proper goodbye in now.”

  Aelfread lowered himself as I tugged playfully on his shirt. I strained up and he bent over. Our lips loomed closer as our faces became our one and only focus in the world. For a moment, there was nothing else in that cold, wet tunnel beside him and me.

  I can’t tell you if it was my strange connection to the tunnels or Aelfie’s Elven reflexes that saved us. Maybe it was both that triggered at the same time as we shoved one another back, the air where our lips would have met split by a friggin’ laser beam.

  No joke, but it really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Lasers make holograms, don’t they?

  I guess the real surprise is that we had managed to drive the supremely collected Sinclair to attempt direct murder. It became less of a surprise when I saw the sorry state the Drake was in.

  His formerly pristine suit had been reduced to fashionable shreds. There honestly wasn’t enough left to be modest which gave me a quick study of Drake physiology. Pro tip: Drakes are more like reptiles than mammals when it comes to sexual characteristics. His deep green scales were scorched a sooty black in some places, scored with shallow cuts that oozed surprisingly human-looking blood in others. Two of the talons on his outstretched hand were broken off as well as a few of the knobs along the horny ridge on his head. He looked like he had walked through World War III but he was still going, his slit pupils blazing with cold fury.

  I guess not every trap I had turned on had been a simple wall. Despite the glowing death that was building in Sinclair’s palm, I felt sorry for what I had put him through and I worried whether I had unintentionally killed Blythe in those traps. Yeah,
I’m a bit of a softie, I suppose, or maybe murder didn’t set well with my sensibilities.

  Aelfie and I were in enough shock at Sinclair’s reappearance and his, uh, appearance, that we didn’t have time to react when the Drake clenched that open claw, sibilant words rolling out of his snout. He didn’t strike us down where we stood, though I was certain that was in his power at that point. Instead, hissing, blinding shafts launched from floor to ceiling around Aelfie and me, corralling us together in a cage of coherent light even as other rays split off to scour the walls of runic inscriptions.

  If that weren’t enough, those bars began to close in with agonizingly slow speed, burning a black trail in the stone. We were driven together once more, out of fear instead of love. Once we were smushed together as tight as we could manage, Sinclair’s wrath abated, the death beams hissing mere inches away from our unprotected flesh.

  “Oh, Lady Stone, your impertinence has cost me much in blood and treasure,” he growled, a dangerous edge behind his carefully chosen words. “It is only because I respect your determination and the Prince’s audacity that I do not split you into so many pieces and take my stone back.”

  Aelfread and I exchanged glances before I tore away to focus on Sinclair. “You wouldn’t dare! You can make a lot of things disappear but you can’t wash away two murders. The Huntress knows where we are and what we’re doing.”

  Sinclair chuckled darkly. “She does but what evidence will remain but my own grievous injuries and the tale of how you assaulted me and my men with lethal force when I made to parlay? More importantly, who will the Dragons believe, their loyal governor or a Lapin Garou guard-for-hire?”

  “Fool’s gold,” I muttered. At least I now knew the Dwarven expression for shit.

  Aelfread’s body went rigid as he ran his fingers through my hair and down my beard. “Thyvian … Master Sinclair.”

  The correction caught the Drake’s attention more than his true name. “You have an offer for me, Prince Aelfson?”